A Lot Like Christmas

by Dawn Atkins

  “But one day…?”

  “Hard to say.”

  “I bet you’ve broken a few hearts.”

  “Nope. I don’t offer more than I can give and the women I hang out with feel the same.”

  “And what is it you give?”

  “A good time, a physical connection, interesting talk, friendship.” He shrugged.

  For all that Chase acted open and available, he was guarded. A person could wade only so deep into those dark eyes of his before hitting a reef.

  “But what about passion, sweeping a woman off her feet and promising her the world?”

  He glanced at her. “Hey…are you making fun of me?”

  She held her fingers in a pinch. “A little bit.”

  Chase laughed his strong, low laugh. “Good for you.”

  “There was something else Fletcher said…that he’d been holding on to things that could never be. What do you think he meant?”

  “You, of course,” Chase said without question, his dark eyes locking with hers for a moment. “He’s been holding on to you.”

  And she’d held on to Chase, too. For far too long. Spending all this time with him seemed to be making it worse.

  “Anyway,” she said to stop that idea, “he told me you were right about him getting a life.”

  “He actually said that? I should have heard the crackle of hell freezing over.”

  “Congratulations, Dr. Phil.”

  “Damn, I’m good.” He drove for a few blocks, a big smile on his face. Then he glanced at her. “I hope the dinner wasn’t too intense for you with us sniping at each other.”

  “There were moments I thought I’d have to hide the knives. Marshall has trouble showing you affection, doesn’t he?”

  “Showing affection? The man’s impossible to please. He jabs at any weakness or error. We don’t call him the General for nothing.”

  “He tried to pull back from criticizing you, at least.”

  “Yeah. There’s history there. He wants the best for me, but only on his terms. In his mind I betrayed the family by not staying in the business like Fletcher. And Fletch plays the martyr role a lot.”

  “Fletcher envies you?”

  “He thinks being the oldest gave me advantages. I don’t know. Just hardwired sibling crap. Since Mom died, we’ve all gotten worse. She was our peacemaker.”

  “Is that why you’ve been so scarce around here?”

  He shot a glance her way. “My work keeps me moving, but…maybe I look for excuses not to visit. Sounds like you’re pushing for some Dr. Phil cred yourself.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, his palm warm.

  Electricity zinged, sparking and stinging along her nerves. Chase cleared his throat, released her hand and shifted gears through the intersection. They were quiet while the ripples between them settled.

  “You sure charmed them into the Santa Plan,” Chase said.

  “I was amazed they said yes after all that arguing about the event. Why is Fletcher so hostile about the mall anyway?”

  “He’s focused on the bottom line is all.”

  “But our bottom line is fine. You saw that, right?”

  “For now, sure…” He paused. “Could we leave the mall alone until tomorrow? Enough of that subject for one night?”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  Too soon, Chase pulled into the mall lot beside her car. The evening was over. For some reason, Sylvie felt let down.

  After all the fun and intimacy, it seemed sad to just part ways. What did she expect? Sex? That made no sense at all.

  “Check this out.” Abruptly Chase reached across her body, his arm brushing her breasts, warm across her middle. Was he going for it? Would he kiss her? Oooh, wow.

  But he reached past her hips and pushed down on something. Her seat began to recline. A seat adjustment, not a wild sexual impulse.

  “The stars are bright tonight.” He lay back against his headrest and lowered his own seat beside hers. “Nice, huh?”

  “Very.” She released a breath. The stars were sharp sparkles in the velvet-black sky. “I don’t spend enough time outdoors, I don’t think.”

  “No wonder, living and breathing the mall as you do.”

  “At home I’m inside, too. I make my dollhouses indoors. I use my treadmill there. I’m an indoor girl, I guess.”

  “If you get that puppy—Dasher?—you’ll be set. Nothing like a sad-eyed doggie with a leash in its mouth to get you out of the house.”

  “Forget the puppy, okay? Your Dr. Phil act is getting old.”

  He turned to her on the headrest. She turned, too, so they were like lovers engaged in pillow talk, close in the dark car. “I enjoyed tonight,” he said softly. The moonlight made Chase’s face gleam silver and his eyes glint bronze. A puff of a breeze ruffled a lock of hair onto his forehead.

  “Me, too,” she said, her pulse racing. Entirely too warm, she shrugged out of the jacket. Chase watched her upper body emerge like she was unwrapping something he couldn’t wait to taste.

  She settled back in the seat, still facing him, the leather creaking beneath her.

  “I can’t believe Fletcher remembered peach margaritas,” she said after a few seconds.

  “I’ll never forget them,” he said, keeping his eyes on hers. “I wasn’t very responsible that night. I should have warned you tequila sneaks up on you.”

  “I wasn’t that drunk, Chase. I knew what I was doing…and what I wanted. And I didn’t want to stop.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We never talked about what happened, you know.” And at the moment that was exactly what she wanted.

  “There wasn’t much to say.”

  “So was it just a big-brother mercy mission? Cheer up the sad birthday girl?” She kept her voice light, making it a joke, though she’d been mortified by that possibility.

  “Trust me, the last thing I wanted that night was to be your brother,” he said, leaning closer.

  “You stopped because you thought I was a virgin?”

  “You were a virgin. You fibbed.”

  “Of course I did. What person with a normal sex drive wants to admit to being a virgin at twenty-one?”

  “How did you last that long anyway?”

  “I was waiting for the right guy.”

  “Me?” He looked alarmed.

  “Relax, okay? The right guy for a first time.” Though deep in her heart she’d wanted more.

  “The first time should be special.” He brushed a curl from her cheek. “Not a drunken mash-up.”

  “Neither of us was that drunk.”

  “I wasn’t in town long. You would have regretted a one-night stand. I know you.” He ran his gaze over her face.

  “What, did you think I’d stalk you or something? You zipped up my dress and patted me like a kid.”

  “That was my most noble act ever. I wanted you so bad I couldn’t see straight.”

  “Yeah?” She’d turned him on that much? That was nice to know. She wished they’d talked about this long ago. Her heart was beating so fast it nearly hurt.

  “You were beautiful and funny and smart and so hot.” He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, then twined a curl around a finger in a tender gesture that made her insides coil like her hair. “We always had such a good time just talking.” She could hardly breathe. Everything in her waited to hear what he would say, what he would do.

  “You were impossible to resist, with or without tequila.” He cupped her cheek, his palm warm against the evening chill, his face so near his features blurred. “You still are. Ah, hell.” He gave in and pressed his mouth to hers, holding motionless, as if waiting for the spark to flare.

  And, oh, did it flare. Just like all those years before, pure desire poured through her. She wanted more of his lips, his tongue. His mouth pulled at her, but gently, pausing for her to indicate what she wanted. More or less.

  More. I want more.

  Immediately doubts rose. What are you doing? You have to work tog
ether. You’re in the parking lot, for God’s sake.

  She broke away long enough to be sure the area was deserted, then returned to Chase’s mouth. They were reliving a memory, fixing it. For once in her life, she was going for it.

  Chase threaded his fingers through her hair, still holding her face, guiding her closer, a groan of pleasure vibrating his lips. He tasted of the sweet cake they’d eaten and of him, warm and human and very male.

  The rasp of his evening whiskers was the only thing that reminded her he wasn’t an extension of her own hungry mouth and eager body. Arousal sparked along her nerves, like strings of twinkle lights, except hotter. Much hotter.

  Her body tensed and below the waist she was a twist of need. She tilted her head and extended her tongue a bit, telling him to take her deeper.

  She pressed her torso against his, the friction of her bra against her nipples almost unbearable. She felt the hard length of him against her thigh, proof of his desire.

  Their tongues shifted, tasted, dipped and teased. She felt light-headed and pulled back just long enough to take in a gulp of air. With their hands on each other’s faces, their upper bodies close, the embrace was tender and hungry and wild all at once and she never wanted to stop.

  Wanting even more, she climbed on top of him. A sharp blast of the horn made her jerk upright. She’d bumped it.

  Chase startled out of his trance, too. “Wow. I hear horns.”

  Sylvie fell back into her seat, her heart hammering her ribs, and stared up at the sky, fighting for air. She’d never felt like this. Well, not since the first time with Chase. It had to be all the buildup, the history, the unresolved lust.

  He turned to her, looking dazed, and slid his thumb back and forth on her lips. “You have an incredible mouth. Did you know that?”

  “I didn’t, but thank you.” None of her lovers had been particularly chatty about favorite body parts. And none had the slow, simmering kiss down to a science like Chase did.

  “What are we doing here?” he breathed.

  “Making out in the mall parking lot.” And she wanted to go somewhere private, get naked and finish what they’d started years before. “I vote you follow me home.” That was bold, but what the hell.

  “You think that’s wise?” His voice steadied into his usual rational baritone.

  “Why not? We both need to…um…blow off steam.” That sounded right for Mr. Good Time Friendly Sex.

  “Blow off steam? Come on, Sylvie….”

  “What? I’m a sexual being. I have needs.”

  “I don’t doubt that. I’m just saying that—”

  “Sex can be just sex. Satisfying fun. A release of tension, a clearing of the brain. Heck, it’s good exercise.”

  “I don’t see you treating sex like a Pilates class.”

  “Then it’s like you said, a physical connection, a way for two people to share…um…a climax…. What am I saying?”

  “You’re saying we want each other. Badly, in my case. But we both know taking this further is asking for trouble. We have a lot to get through together. Sex would complicate the situation.”

  “True.” Now that Chase had invited reality into the car, her own fire faded fast.

  CHASE WATCHED SYLVIE absorb his oh-so-logical explanation for not doing what he was dying to do—dive into that incredible mouth, take that arousing woman into his arms and not come up for air for hours, maybe days.

  Sylvie just plain got to him. Her drive, her heat, her big, soft heart. She was a force to be reckoned with.

  And he wanted to reckon a little.

  But he was right. Sex would complicate things. On top of that, he couldn’t keep Sylvie in the dark another minute about his job at the mall. He owed her the full story even if the real estate guy had been blowing smoke about a bidding war.

  “Listen, Sylvie, there’s something you need to know. I’m not just here to manage the mall.”

  “What?” Her green eyes went wide, startled.

  “Here’s the deal. Fletcher wants to sell Starlight Desert. Dad doesn’t. My job is to run the numbers, check out the commercial market and break the tie.”

  “Fletcher wants to sell…? And you’re going to…?” She took two deep breaths, her eyes searching his face, then she fell back against the headrest as if she’d been struck. “I can’t believe this. That’s horrible news.” She sat bolt upright. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I wanted to talk to the broker first. If a sale was impossible why upset you unnecessarily? But I figured you’d rather know than not.”

  “You’re right.” She took another shuddery breath then jerked her head to face him. “So which way are you leaning?”

  “I’m neutral at the moment. The consultant report and your projections look good, but the market might be right to sell.”

  “What would it take to get you on our side?”

  “I don’t know. No buyers, I guess. Or very low offers.”

  “How about if ‘A Starlight Desert Christmas’ breaks all revenue records? What if we make so much money even Fletcher will want to keep the mall?”

  He studied her anxious eyes, wishing he wasn’t the cause of her distress. “It depends. I can’t promise, Sylvie.”

  “Give us a chance, Chase. You know how important the mall is to so many people. The owners, our shoppers, the staff. Me.”

  “Things change. Tenants move out. Managers go back east to take care of relatives.”

  “But some things are constant.”

  “If we do sell, you can count on a strong reference letter. I know you’ll go on to bigger and better things.”

  “That’s what you think? That I settled for Starlight Desert? You’re wrong. About me and about the mall and I’ll prove it to you.”

  He studied her face as determination began to take over despair. He was glad for that. “For now, keep this information to yourself. I don’t want to alarm the tenants until we know where we stand.”

  “I won’t say a word.”

  “If we do sell, they’ll have several months to relocate.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “I know this is hard for you, Sylvie, but as much as you love the mall, it is a business. If it’s better for McCann Development to sell, we have to sell.”

  Angry flames lit her green eyes. “Starlight Desert is more than a business, Chase. I just have to make you see that.” She got out of the car.

  Chase handed up the sack of leftovers. “I’m sorry tonight had to end like this.”

  “We needed some kind of cold shower.”

  “As far as mall management goes, I want you to take the lead. Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

  “Don’t sell Starlight Desert,” she said. “That’s what I need you to do.”

  “No promises. I’ll do whatever else I can.”

  She bit her lip, worried as hell, and Chase wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it would be all right, that he’d make it all right.

  But he couldn’t do that. Besides, selling the mall might be best for her, too, though she wouldn’t want to hear that. She’d get swept out of this little tide pool and into the larger career stream. One day she’d thank him. Maybe.

  At least now sex was out of the question. Sylvie would never sleep with a guy who might sell her precious mall. For all her talk about letting off steam, she didn’t take sex lightly.

  Chase had the uneasy feeling that with Sylvie he might not either. And then where would he be?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHAKING AND STRUGGLING to breathe as Chase’s news sank in, Sylvie braked halfway across the mall parking lot to collect herself. She rested her head on the steering wheel and made herself take slow, deliberate breaths.

  As much as you love the mall, it is a business. So cold.

  She’d thought the worst thing that could happen was Chase taking her dream job, but this was far worse. It could be the end of all she loved. Any day now, they could up and sell Starlig
ht Desert right out from under her.

  What could she do about it? Nothing much beyond making the Black Friday event the best it could be. Would that be enough? Chase wouldn’t promise anything.

  For comfort, she looked back at Starlight Desert. It looked sleepy in the fall darkness. Evenly spaced security lights created triangles of orange along the back wall, making the place seem mysterious and beautiful. Except there was a gap, right in the middle, like a punch in the mall’s eye. Had the light burned out? Or had it been smashed? And was that Dumpster usually against the wall that way?

  Maybe she was being paranoid, but she called the security office just in case. The call went to the machine and she left a message. Leo and his crew must be on rounds. She hoped they weren’t holed up watching TV at the information desk, which might have been how the vandals got away the first two times. On the other hand, she and Chase had been lucky no one had been patroling the lot in a golf cart while they were kissing like maniacs. What had possessed her anyway?

  Chase had turned her down because he thought she’d make too big a deal of sex. She knew why. The first time with him, she’d been ridiculously dreamy, believing sex meant love and love meant forever. But eight years had passed and she’d matured. Sex wasn’t necessarily that big a deal.

  Certainly it wasn’t with Chase, Mr. Easy Breezy in the Sack, and he’d made that clear. It was tempting to think a guy would change for love, that the right woman could “fix” him. That was how Desiree talked about the flawed men she chose.

  Sylvie knew better. People didn’t change. The trick was to accept them as they were.

  And Chase was a guy who moved on—in work, in life, with women. He would do what he would do with the mall and then he would leave, no matter what happened between them.

  Which would be exactly nothing now that the mall was at risk. There had to be more she could do to save it. If she could make Chase see that Starlight Desert was more than a business, if she could get him to side with Marshall, he wouldn’t want to sell, no matter what anyone offered. But how could she change the mind of a hard-line business guy?